The doctor said, “You’ve tested positive for HIV, it must be wrong. Come in Monday, we’ll retest you.” I think, as a white woman in the suburbs in Cleveland, they didn’t– that was MY stigma.
Um, no one had ever asked me if I was divorced. When I mentioned I owned a tavern and a restaurant, no one asked me about how much do I drink – I’m an alcoholic in recovery. And no one asked me if I was lonely. You know, if you’re divorced and widowed, a lot of times IF we meet somebody, we don’t necessarily want to go out to dinner and that, you know, we wanna get laid. SERIOUSLY! Take me to dinner later. I just haven’t had sex in a long– you know.